The Dark Order
by Skygate
Summary: Several years after the fall of Voldemort, the wizarding community is at peace. Yet there are whispers and signs of trouble. Surely Voldemort wasn't the last of the dark wizards. Indeed, the dark arts will always provide the alluring promise of power and control and out from the shadows will step something far more sinister than before. The Dark Order will rise.
1. A Shadow Stirs

"_What we imagine is order is merely the prevailing form of chaos"_

-Kerry Thornley

[A small, quiet town outside of London]

Harry Potter lay awake in bed. From his nightstand, red digits proclaimed that it was far too early for him to be up, or at least that's what he assumed they said. Without his glasses, he could never quite be sure.

He had awoken in a slight panic. He tried to clear his mind of his irrational worries and get right back to sleep, but feelings of unease and foreboding kept him conscious like a splinter in his mind.

He sat up and slid his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Blimey" he whispered as the time came into focus. 3am, a veritable witching hour.

Harry swung his legs out over the side of the bed. Beside him, Ginny stirred in her sleep. Careful not to wake her, he stood, pulling on a nightshirt. He felt around in the dark until his fingers found his want.

"_Lumos_" he whispered, finding his way to the door with the help of the resultant beam of light.

'I'll just check on the kids' he thought as he made his way down the hall to James and Albus' room. Pushing the door open slowly he found both boys slumbering peacefully. James was tangled in his sheets and hanging halfway off the bed while Albus was just as Harry had left him when he'd tucked him in hours before.

Sitting at the foot of Albus' bed, he smiled down at his sons. It seemed like days ago that he'd been watching them have their first birthdays or whiz around his knees on toy brooms and yet all three of his children were now on summer holiday from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

16 year old James was already in his sixth year as a member of Gryffindor house. Although the Potter's home had enough rooms for each boy to have their own, as a testament to their closeness, they'd opted to continue sharing a bedroom when they were home for recesses.

Convinced that his boys were safe and sound, he crept down the hall to his youngest, Lily. She too was sleeping soundly, her posture a sort of fusion between her brothers', with a book still open on her chest. Harry smirked, unsurprised. As a small breeze blew her curtains to the side, a silvery moonbeam illuminated her face, so much like her mother's.

While his sons certainly took after him with their dark, messy hair and emerald eyes, Lily was the real beauty of the three, a spitting image of Ginny.

He crossed the room and reached out to put her book back in its place, but he was stopped by a voice from the door.

Apparently he had not been stealthy enough to keep Ginny abed.

"Never tickle a sleeping dragon" she teased from the doorway.

Harry turned. "You're up." He said unnecessarily. "I was just going to put away…" he trailed off.

Ginny sauntered over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Harry smiled at her. "Did I wake you?" he asked guiltily.

She shook her head, fiery red locks licking her face like tongues of fire in the light of Harry's wand. "Come on then, she'll be here even when it's a respectable hour of the morning." She promised.

Harry nodded and leaned down to kiss their daughter before letting Ginny lead him back to bed.

As they slid back under the covers, Ginny took his hand. "Why were you up? You haven't been up all this time have you?" she asked, her brow furrowing with concern.

Harry shook his head "No, no it was nothing." He assured her "I've just been having a little insomnia lately."

However, this wasn't true at all. As far as Harry could tell, this was nothing ordinary. In fact, the last time he'd woken feeling like this was some 20 years ago…

* * *

[Somewhere in North America]

Thousands of miles away from the Potter household, the mist rolled thick along the earth on an uncharacteristically cool night.

A gentle zephyr whisked the roiling vapors across a clearing in a forest of dark trees, but other than this, nothing in the wood moved. Suddenly, there came a loud crack and three figures apparated simultaneously in the opening. They were cloaked and each had a heavy hood thrown over their heads such that their features were cast in shadow.

They paused a beat, heads swiveling from one to the other. Then, wordlessly, they set off through the trees.

As they walked, there came a stirring in the mist. Something...or some things, rather, were moving through what had previously appeared to be a deserted woodland. They were visible through the mist in parts, a furry paw here, an eye there.

Then, as the three figures broke the tree line, the beasts were cast suddenly into moonlight. The moonbeams revealed a host of no less than a dozen abnormally large wolves moving in a loose circle around the wizards as they climbed up a gently sloping rocky hill.

Atop the hill there stood what appeared to be a small, rickety outhouse made from various planks of wood nailed together in a manner that could only be described as haphazard.

One of the wizards stopped, reaching a bony hand out toward a wolf, which trotted over to him and allowed him to pet it. This wolf was clearly the largest of the pack, its shoulder coming easily to the man's waist. Its fur was a brilliant silvery color, like spun moonbeams. He knelt down and whispered something in its ear, then stood and rejoined the other two, who were waiting in front of the outhouse.

The wolves, apparently lead by the silver one, threw back their heads and howled, each at a different pitch. The result was an ethereal harmony which seemed to cause the air itself to shudder and seize. As their cries faded into the night, one of the wizards stepped up to the outhouse. A scratching like that of metal on wood could be heard coming from the door into which a series of ancient runes was steadily being carved as though by some invisible hand.

The man's mouth moved, though no audible words came out, and he produced his wand from the folds of his robes, tapping the door thrice. He stepped forward and passed straight through the door as though it were no more solid than the mist.

Following suit, his companions also passed through the door. The cavernous hall they entered was clearly the result of a particularly powerful undetectable extension charm. Instead of a pit latrine, the three wizards found themselves in what appeared to be a mixture between a large cave and a stone tribunal room. Already present in throne-like seats carved atop massive stone pillars sat 4 others. The thrones were seven in total and stood at various heights.

Each crossing to the base of one of the three unoccupied seats the wizards pointed their wands up toward the ceiling and spoke in unison. "_Ascendio_"

The figures shot upward, cloaks billowing and came to rest on their respective roosts.

"Dietrich, why have you arrived later than your pre-determined interval?" asked a woman's voice in a thick middle-eastern accent.

One of the three who had just arrived responded, his accent much less pronounced but clearly eastern European. "There were…unforeseeable complications with my associate's accommodations" he responded flatly.

A third voice chimed in. "Azkaban just as difficult to get into as it is to get out of then?"

Dietrich turned slowly toward the man who had just spoken, sizing him up. "I see. So we have found a replacement for Riddle. At last." He muttered "I presume you will not fail us where Thomas has."

Then, from the highest of the thrones came a voice unlike the others. It was slightly warped, androgynous, and it commanded the silence and attentions of the others. It was chilling and fiery at the same time, enthralling yet repulsive.

"He will soon have the chance to prove himself" it hissed "What we seek is hidden at Hogwarts…"


	2. Death in Dublin

[Greater London Area]

The following morning was accompanied by the discord that had become the norm whilst the children were home. In the scramble to get ready for their days, Harry had misplaced his glasses, Ginny had scorched the toast with an overzealous use of the incendio charm, Albus had refused to get out of bed which lead to James attempting to forcibly extricate him, and Lily had gotten so excited over and article about her favorite wiz-rock band in _Witch Weekly_ that she'd almost broken the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Magic.

Finally, once everyone was ready, they assembled before the fireplace. The children said their quick goodbyes to Harry and Ginny and stepped into the fireplace in turn, each gathering a handful of floo powder and declaring "Weasley-Granger residence" as their destination.

Hermione, who had recently left her post in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to teach at Hogwarts, had the summer free and so had agreed to look after the Potter children while Harry and Ginny were at work.

Naturally, the Potters didn't argue against spending the summer's days with their friends. Nevertheless, they did resent when Hermione or "Professor Granger" (she had retained her family name in legal matters) tried to assign them transfiguration homework.

Once Albus had disappeared into the flames, Harry, and then Ginny, both declared their destinations "Ministry of Magic".

Stumbling forth from one of the golden grates into the atrium, Harry quickly righted himself and straightened his glasses, stepping out of the way for Ginny who followed behind him moments later.

Harry worked on the second floor in the Auror office, while Ginny worked deeper underground on the Committee On Experimental Charms.

She kissed his cheek affectionately before they parted ways near the lifts.

Ginny had done a short internship on a break from her day job as sports writer for the Daily Prophet with the committee and found herself so enraptured by the work (as well as the perks of working in the same building as Harry) that she decided to make the job change permanent.

Harry's shift didn't start for another 15 minutes and despite the fact that he enjoyed his job, he wasn't one to do more work than he needed to. Besides, today held the promise of meetings and mounds of paperwork. He set off for the small cafe meant to cater to Minstry Employees and visitors where he'd promised to meet Ron.

The man behind the counter grinned at him. "Fancy some pumpkin juice then Harry?" he nodded enticingly toward a large decanter with orange liquid in it.

Harry shook his head. "No thanks Jennings" he declined the man. "Though I wouldn't say no to a spot of tequila," he muttered "with the day I've got ahead of me."

Jennings' brow knitted in confusion. "I'm sorry…tequila?" he asked, "I'm afraid I don't know your meaning."

Harry chuckled and shook his head. "No, no it was just a joke." He explained, "Tequila's what muggles call Felix Felicius."

"Felix Felicius!" Came Ron's familiar voice as he jogged over to join Harry. "Haven't got a bit of that have you? I could use some what with the hours we've been pulling to get those budget reports finished."

Harry clapped his friend on the shoulder and nodded his agreement. "That's what I've just been telling Jennings."

Ron worked with Harry in the Auror office and he too had been hit with a massive pile-up of red tape and forms associated with their mid-year budget assessments as well as some international hullabaloo involving some potentially cursed soda pop bottles that had found their way from Chelsea to Munich.

"In any case, Jennings, I think we'd better get going then or suffer the wrath of our wives for getting caught up late at work again." Harry dismissed them, and Jennings bade them a gloomy farewell.

Ron made a face "Speaking of which, Hermione's not been too happy about that. Been a bit scary since she took that post at Hogwarts." He muttered. "I feel sorry for her students, really."

Harry shook his head. "I don't know how she'd managed to avoid a job in teaching for this long as it is."

Ron shrugged. "Always been tangled up in advocating for house elves or writing new human-centaur relation treaties I suppose. Bless her."

Harry stepped into the lift feeling quite at peace. Their fellow occupants were an assortment of important-looking foreign wizards and a pensive-looking black man whom he greeted straight away. "Morning, Minister" said Harry amicably, shaking hands with the man.

Kingsley Shacklebolt smiled back at him and nodded. "Weasley. Potter." He said in his signature short manner of speaking. "I trust things are going well in the office?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "Sir, you'd know if it wasn't" he assured the minster, stepping out a moment later into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Honestly, you'd think the bloke might chance a more friendly greeting for two aurors who helped him bring down the darkest wizard of all time" Ron huffed, but smiled good-naturedly. "Suppose he's always been like that though, hasn't he?"

Harry shrugged noncommittally as they passed through heavy oak doors.

On the other side of the doors, they were greeted with utter pandemonium. Aurors were running this way and that and no sooner had they opened the door than 7 interdepartmental memos whizzed over their heads and toward the lifts. Matevich, the wizard who stood in for Harry as head of the department when he wasn't working, was standing atop a chair issuing orders to a quick-quotes-quill. Once he caught sight of the two of them he leapt from the chair and hurried over.

The press of people parted ways for Harry as he made his way across the office. "Matevich, what's happened?" he demanded.

"Sir, there's been trouble, sir." Matevich said rather unnecessarily. He was out of breath. "A massacre. In Dublin." He paused a spell and composed himself. "Those three men who we've been keeping an eye on, you know the ones who'd been seen doing some funny business with their wands out around King's Cross? Trying to break through to 9 ¾. The gang out of Liverpool" he explained.

"Yes, yes," said Harry impatiently.

"Well, an hour ago three aurors spotted them on a ferry to Ireland. I authorized them to follow the suspects, provided they keep us posted here in real time. The three made for Dublin and eventually made contact with another individual, dodgy looking bloke. Just for safety's sake we got in contact with a squad of hit wizards, asked them to stand by in case anything got out of hand. The aurors followed the men into the Fainting Goat-that's a wizard's pub in Dublin-and things got a bit...well they mentioned something about creating horcruxes sir" he explained. "So one of our men, David Levitz, attempted to apprehend them but they were having none of that. Wands were drawn and they, well they killed him."

Harry closed his eyes a moment and his mouth thinned. Levitz had been a good man, a new recruit too. He'd hardly been an auror for a year. "Then what?" Harry asked, keeping his voice calm.

"Well we don't think the dark wizards expected that they were so outnumbered when the fighting broke out. Naturally the other two aurors who'd been inside the pub started dueling with the four suspects, but the hit wizards entered the bar as well, 6 of them. They tried to subdue the suspects but the fight spilled out into the street." Matevich said these last words quickly, hoping to get on to the next part of his report.

"They took a wizard's duel out into the streets of Dublin in broad daylight?!" Ron interrupted quickly. "They're barking!"

Harry shook his head incredulously. "I suppose this is where the massacre comes in?" he asked weakly.

Matevich nodded, looking rebuffed. "Yes. Well the four dark wizards took to the shop fronts and cars and just about anything they could set their sights on with blasting spells. Our men had not choice but to try and subdue them, but they were easily matched. The suspects were supposedly extremely adept at dueling. Still, our men had them effectively surrounded. They were pinned down under too many stunning spells to take even a moment to disapparate." He said. "So after a few volleys, the dark wizards started to use bystanders as…bargaining chips"

Harry nodded, knowing it could only get worse. "So they used muggles as hostages." He completed the puzzle.

"Well, actually sir, not in the traditional sense." Matevich contradicted him. "They sort of just, started killing anyone and everyone they could. The aurors say one of the dark wizards did a bit of extremely powerful wordless magic, stopped any of the muggles from fleeing. Slowed down our men quite a bit too. We believe it was some variant of the impediment jinx, or else a freezing charm."

Ron shook his head, looking sick. "Couldn't even run or protect themselves then, couldn't fight back. They just had to stand there, frozen, scared, and wait to get killed." He said, realizing the scene's stark inhumanity.

Matevich nodded gravely. "Our men tried to freeze them, stun them, anything. They countered whatever we threw at them. Finally the suspects got across that they would simply stop their attacks and disapparate if the aurors and hit wizards agreed to a ceasefire. What could our guys do? They stopped."

Harry stood, fuming. "So they got away." He steeled himself and nodded.

After a moment he asked "How many casualties?"

"23, sir" Matevich replied. "The worst single incident since-"

"Since the Battle of Hogwarts" Harry finished grimly. "Thank you Matevich, I'll take it from here. Please brief Ron on the location of the incident and we'll be off." He said.

Ron pulled a self-inking quill and a pad from his shoulder bag, starting to take down specifics so they could zero in enough on the area to apparate there.

Harry, in the meantime scribbled several interdepartmental memos while issuing instructions to a host of aurors who had realized that he was now in charge. More aurors were pouring in; every member of the department of magical law enforcement that could be called up was now being delegated to set up guards at various strategic points including hogsmeade, certain areas around London and other important magical areas. The dark wizards hadn't actually gone to Dublin to kill, but they had certainly shown that they were not at all uncomfortable with blatant mass murder and whenever there was an unpredictable factor like that in play, one could never be too safe.

He sent instructions to obliviators and put Matevich in charge of informing Kingsley. Already looking harassed and shaken by the suddenness and violence of the incident at hand, Matevich only obliged because technically, he had to.

Lastly, Harry scribbled a quick interdepartmental memo to Ginny, letting her know that he was going to be very busy tonight, that she should go to Ron and Hermione's after work so that she and Hermione could both make sure the children were safe. She'd know the news about what had happened soon enough, perhaps before the memo even reached her.

Then, just as a precaution he scribbled "The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix are located at number 12 Grimmauld Place, London." It had been years since he'd had to perform any duties as secret keeper, but if they really needed a safe house, the children couldn't get in without his word.

Then, bewitching the memos to fly straight to their respective recipients, he hurried over to meet Ron.

"Got it" Ron muttered, holding up a piece of paper.

With that, they swept from the office, leaving an exasperated Matevich to once again hold down the fort.

Only once they had reached the privacy of an empty lift did Ron and Harry drop their business-like facades. They let the true gravitas of the moment sink in. Ron looked as though he'd aged about 10 years in the past 15 minutes and Harry's brow hadn't unknitted since he'd heard the word "massacre".

"Feels like it did back then." Ron muttered. "When we were searching out horcruxes, remember? We'd listen to the radio to find out what tragedies had happened that day. That's what it is you know? Pure evil. Nobody normal kills 23 people in 10 minutes just because they couldn't think of a better way to escape arrest. Nobody who isn't mad."

Harry didn't say anything, but it was true. Even though this was the first time they'd had to deal with anything this horrible since the fall of Voldemort, it felt just like they were suddenly in the midst of another war.

Once they emerged into the atrium, it became clear that by now much of the ministry had heard about the incident. Ron wordlessly showed Harry the paper with the details of their destination.

There was a tense quiet that hung over the atrium. Groups of witches and wizards stood huddled in groups of two or three. Naturally, this was the business of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It did not warrant any action on their part, at least not yet. But what did it mean?

That was the question in all of the eyes that followed Harry and Ron until they reached the middle of the atrium, where they turned on their heels and disapparated.

**Author's Note: Since I've decided to continue to develop this story, I find myself in need of one or two beta readers. I'm mostly looking for a second or third pair of eyes for grammar, usage or awkward phrasing. I don't want input on content and I'd expect a fairly quick turnaround (a day or two, but of course I'm understanding of extenuating circumstances) since I only require a quick read-through. Please message me if you are interested.**


	3. Machine of Malice

[Dublin – Ireland]

When Harry and Ron apparated into the middle of the street, the cool Irish morning was steadily melting into a proper scorcher. The road was roped off and large barriers hid the crime scene from view on either end. Aurors and other magical law enforcement officers were hurrying about up and down the road.

The scene had all the trappings of a muggle terrorist attack. Cars were flipped, the sides of buildings bore large craters in them where blasting spells had hit them, a bus was on fire, and there were bodies everywhere.

Ron made a sound in the back of his throat and shook his head, composing himself. Harry did his best not to look too long at any of the bodies as the head obliviator on the scene jogged over to him.

"It's been absolutely mad here sir, but we believe we're airtight." she reported. Harry nodded grimly. That was the first thing he'd heard that could be construed as somewhat positive.

"Thank you Miranda." He sighed, "I expect we have modified survivors' memories such that this is all remembered as an accident?"

Miranda nodded. "Yes. Though it seems a disservice to the victims and their memory. This was mass murder. It wasn't a gas explosion…the suspects are still at large!"

Harry knew just how she felt. Indeed, as they spoke ministry wizards were rectifying any damage that could not have been from a gas explosion and rearranging evidence so as to make the elaborate cover-up believable.

"It's because they are still at large that the muggles must be kept in the dark. We don't want to force anyone's hand." Harry explained, dismissing the witch.

He scanned the two-dozen or so witches and wizards working on the site, trying to find the ranking auror.

Ron tapped his shoulder, apparently two steps ahead of him, and pointed at a ministry wizard clearing rubble with a vanishing spell. "He's there." He muttered.

"Do we have any leads at all then?" Harry asked once he and Ron had reached the man.

Danson's eyes flickered from side to side quickly before he put his arm around Harry and lead him off into one of the now-deserted shops. Ron followed them, producing his wand and soundproofing the door which had splintered and cracked in several spots.

They entered the small, empty café and took seats. "As far as anyone else in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement knows, we don't know who they are and there was no consequential evidence." Danson said in a hushed tone.

Harry nodded. "Right, but we'd been keeping tabs on these men for a bit now."

"Luckily the Aurors who were involved in the firefight were able to secure the scene before anyone else arrived. We thought it best to keep _this_ at least within the auror office until we can put together a more meaningful picture." Danson slid a slip of paper about the size of a business card across the table to Harry.

It was blank, and grayish white. For a moment nobody said anything.

"Well then…what the bloody hell is it?" Ron said finally, flipping the card over to reveal a second blank side.

Danson, looking slightly indignant, tapped the paper thrice with his wand. A dark black symbol appeared on the paper, reminding Harry uncomfortably of a certain bewitched diary. The ink traced the shape of a snake biting its tail in a circle and the center of the circle bore what appeared to be two down strokes forming a sort of upward pointing arrowhead.

Danson turned the card over. The opposite side now bore the words "The Dark Order Will Rise".

Harry peered at Danson over his glasses. It was too soon to decide what this latest development meant, but he doubted it could be a good sign.

Pocketing the slip of paper, Harry stood. "This could mean they are not working alone..." he said biting his lip. "The Dark Order…" he muttered. He'd heard it before, though he couldn't quite place it. He supposed it wasn't that uncommon a phrase and might not really mean anything.

Then again, if it didn't mean anything, would it really be the title of this story? I don't think so. Clever reader.

Danson stood as well but Ron motioned for him to wait. Turning to Harry he muttered "We should talk to the ministry wizards who fought the perpetrators."

Harry turned to Danson. "Can we speak to them in here then?"

"Of course." Danson obliged and left them, returning moments later with three men and a woman in tow. "The rest sustained injuries and are currently at St. Mungo's" and with that he was gone.

Harry leaned against the glass window of the café and motioned for the four to sit. Two of the men were aurors, Sunstad and Simmons.

The other two, a man and woman, bore hit wizard badges.

Harry listened carefully and Ron scribbled notes as they relayed the story in turns from different perspectives. The aurors had told Levitz to wait to hear more about what the dark wizards had planned, but he had been intent on apprehending them.

"I'd never seen anybody draw their wand faster. Two of them had hit him with killing curses before we knew there was any trouble." One said, his voice still shaky.

The fight had broken out into the street only, as Matevich had already relayed, because the dark wizards had started to wreak havoc on the muggle storefronts. This struck Harry as odd, considering that the dark wizards had disapparated shortly after.

Only when the retelling had come to an end did he raise this concern. "If the culprits were so intent on disapparating once you'd pinned them down, why weren't they so eager when they first fled the pub?" he asked.

One of the aurors, Sunstad met Harry's eyes. "We had the same concerns sir. We believe the wizards intended to wreak enough havoc to send the ministry into a frenzy before disapparating. The death of an auror in the process of apprehending individuals suspected of illegal activities may put a little strain the auror office whilst we attempt to track down the wizards responsible, yes. However…"

The female hit witch picked up where he trailed off "However, if they destroyed half a city block and murdered dozens of muggles, well that would concern the obliviator squads, the hit wizards, focus the auror office almost entirely on the four wizards responsible and occupy the entire Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

Ron stopped writing. "Hang on then, not only us. The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes will be involved of course, and the minister's office. This certainly can't help our relationship with the muggle PM."

Harry nodded. "They want to keep the ministry busy, which means-"

"They've got something else planned." Ron finished.

Simmons sat back as though glad they had come to the same conclusion. "And since these four didn't seem too concerned with drawing our attention to them, there could be something bigger that we aren't seeing."

Harry fingered the slip of paper in his pocket. "So you think they aren't acting alone?" he probed, wondering how much they already knew.

As though he could see the card in Harry's pocket Sunstad replied, "We expect that's where this _Dark Order_ comes into play."

There was a beat filled with a loaded silence before anyone spoke next.

Ron redirected. "I meant to ask…well I don't mean to be rude…I'm not sure how to – that is, how exactly did these four manage…"

"To fend off a dozen trained ministry wizards?" finished the Hit Witch.

"They had a unique dueling style." Explained Simmons, ready for this question but still looking rather embarrassed. "Two only ever cast defensive magic. Shield charms, disarming spells, wards and the like. The third was the only one to actually strike out against us. One of his stunners broke clean through Jenkins' shield charm like it was naught but an eggshell. Nigh impossible to defend against. The fourth one was responsible for most of the blasting spells. He seemed a bit out of place. Shorter than the others, and he appeared to be in charge of diverting our attention. It was as though they'd trained to duel in a group."

"We could hardly keep up enough fire and anti-apparition charms to hold them down with the front wizard on the attack. Wicked strong, spooky almost." Added Sunstad.

"It was a well-oiled machine we were fighting, and we were…just human." The Hit Wizard marveled.

Hours later, Harry and Ron sat down for a small lunch. They'd spent most of the morning and early afternoon collecting information, assisting with evidence adjustments and discussing with the highest-ranking members of their staff how they might move forward with the investigation.

By the late afternoon the scene of the massacre looked exactly like a street where there had just been a very unfortunate gas explosion. Harry was reminded, much to his displeasure, of another man who had once caused magical havoc in a muggle street, which killed several innocent people and had been passed off as a gas explosion.

They had barely gotten back to the ministry when Harry was summoned to a meeting with the minister.

Kingsley had just come from a meeting with the muggle prime minister and was looking rather calm considering the magnitude of what had just happened under his ministry. Harry realized that before him was a man who had been through two wizarding wars, lost countless friends and colleagues and spent much of his life as a dark wizard catcher. He was not one to lose his cool in the face of tragedy or violence.

Harry spent much of the meeting filling Kingsley in on exactly what he knew about the incident, but not before Kingsley had made it so that they couldn't be heard through the door and ensured the secrecy of their meeting.

Though he was hesitant, Harry also disclosed the theory that this attack could be intended to busy the ministry of magic with a diversion whilst other, perhaps more nefarious, matters were planned.

Kingsely's gaze remained unreadable. He seemed to think for a moment, then answered rather sagely "At this point we can't know for sure what their intentions were, but I think it would be best to keep the possibility of a larger organization a very real concern of ours. Still, without other leads our best bet would be to find the four wizards. I believe they were seen by a number of ministry officials."

Harry nodded and made to leave. He'd reached the door before Kingsley spoke again. "Oh, and Potter, I want you to station some men at Hogwarts, effective immediately."

Harry's brow knitted. He understood the minister's concern for the students, considering that three of the four wizards had previously indicated an interest in 9 and ¾ .

Indeed, if this matter didn't blow over in the coming weeks (which he hoped it would), he would be much more comfortable sending his children back to school knowing it had bolstered security. However, he resented being asked to spare some of his men straight away to protect what would be a nearly empty castle for the remainder of the summer.

Harry wondered if he should argue the matter.

"Minister, the students don't return for another two weeks…" He began.

"Yes Potter, I'm aware." Kingsley cut him off quite bluntly, though he said nothing else, and Harry understood himself to be dismissed.

**Author's Note: Sorry for the slight delay on this chapter and thanks for all of your kind words, both in reviews and which have been sent to me privately. I've been quite busy with my work IRL, but I am still looking for a beta reader or even anyone who would agree to read chapters through quickly to catch any obvious mistakes. Please PM me if you're willing to beta read.**


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